Chapter 12 Chapter Eleven

Taylor and Nicolai began monitoring Ordell Robbie's residence at 8:30 on Friday morning.They were in Taylor's modified Chevrolet parked on Greenwood Avenue, not far from the corner of Thirty-first Street, and they had a good view of the third house on the south side of the road.At ten to eight they checked the garage and knocked on the front door.There was no response, so Taylor pointed his open ID card at the door mirror.After a rattling of the lock, the face of a young black woman appeared through the chains."He's not here," she said, and closed the door.Taylor had to keep knocking on the door and ringing the bell again to open the door again.The woman told them that he hadn't returned all night and that she didn't know where he was.The gap in the door became narrower and narrower, leaving only two big eyes until the door closed again.They drove around the block, then parked on Greenwood Avenue to spy on the house: a small red-brick bungalow with pink and white impatiens blooming in flower beds, Iron bars were nailed to the windows.Tyler thought he saw the curtains moving and looked through his binoculars.Indeed, the woman was looking out from there.

"Waiting for her husband," said Nicolai, "she sent him away as soon as he got home." "We don't even know if that's his wife, maybe he's not married yet," Taylor said. "We don't even know a shit," said Nicolai, "except that he sells guns, I'm sure. And it's a big deal, otherwise he wouldn't risk paying for them. Get them out before any of them confess him." "Maybe he's just being stupid," Taylor said. "He was arrested once, and that was twenty years ago," Nicolai said. "He's not the type to mess things up."

"Maybe he just quit after that." "Impossible—he's been in the gun business for a long time. He got Beaumont out as fast as he could and he killed him, or got someone else to do him. Riviera waterfront cops say they questioned Ordell .Yeah, but they don't know what to ask. That's the problem. Same thing happened to Jackie Buck and he got her out right away.  … You better call her again .” Tyler picked up the phone and dialed her number. Nicolai said, "Try it, scare her." Taylor waited a moment and said, "Ms. Burke, hello, I'm Faron Taylor.  … Oh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to check to see if you were okay. We have a man in your building Outside the building... oh, just in case. You never know. You have my number. . . . " He listened for a while, then said, "Oh?" All right, either at your place or at our place. Well, that sounds pretty good. When we call you again, you tell us it's all right. Goodbye." He put down the phone and said to Nicolai:

"She wants to talk." "She's alone all night," Nicolai said. "We can talk. When will it be?" "Just later today. I'll wake her up then." "Hey, I like that," said Nicolai. "We try to get them out of bed. You just look at them, bleary-eyed, yawning, hair messed up. It's like The woman in the beer ad on TV. She works in a tavern in the desert, right? You must have seen it. The moment the guy comes in, she perks up right away, but you can't see him. He never Showed up. He asked for the beer that was being advertised, I forgot what it was called, and she said, 'I was expecting that from you.' Like he was her type. She even Looks a little anxious, but, well, you know she's ready. That look. Jackie Buck reminds me a little bit of her." Tyler said, "So you're going to look into it?"

"Maybe, if I can get her to jump and look like she's ready, huh? Otherwise, sir, you're asking for trouble." Ray Nicolai was divorced; he chased women, thought he was attractive to them, and several of them kept him captivated.Faron Taylor is married to a woman named Cheryl whom she met at Florida State University; they have two little boys, four and six.Faron was only with Lei, and when he couldn't get away with it, he would occasionally play tricks on the spot.During a deer hunt, for example, they went out together and happened to meet two or three friendly girls in a bar.Once Ray started making moves with a woman he wanted, Fallon always felt he should get close to the other so that she wouldn't get hurt, wouldn't feel left out.

Just then Nicolai saw a white Cadillac Seville turning from Greenwood Avenue onto Thirty-first Street.The car moved forward slowly, as if the driver was looking for a house number, stopped, moved back, and came to a stop on the side of Ordell Robbie's private drive."Look, who are we waiting for?" Nicolai said, taking the binoculars from Taylor and pointing it at the guy who got out of the car, a tall guy in a short-sleeved shirt. "Do you want to call back?" "Give me the number," Taylor said, grabbing the phone. Nicolai read him the phone number.The man was at the front door by this time.In a district where the majority of the residents were black, Nicolai saw that he was a white man, about fifty-five years old, a little over six feet tall, and about a hundred and eighty pounds.The door opened and closed again.The guy stood there.The door opened again, and the guy and the woman spoke.

Tyler said, "Thanks." To Nicolai, "I know him. Max Cherry. He's a bail bondsman. You saw him lunch at Helen Wilkes's." "He must have written a bond for them," said Nicolai, "but what is he doing here?" Tyler took the telescope from him. "Yes, that's Max. Maybe Ordell auctioned off his house as collateral, and Max came to check it out. They do that kind of thing too." "He's still talking to her," said Nicolai. "Look, she's talking now. She's opening the door. . . . Is she asking him to come in?"

"No, he's leaving," Taylor said. The woman stood at the door, waiting for Max to get into the car before beginning to close it, but didn't close it until the Cadillac was on the road.The car drove onto Greenwood Avenue, turned south, and left them. "Business," Tyler said. "Max's a nice guy. He worked there before we went to the Justice Department. Do you remember some old man talking about him? Max Cherry?" "Some impression," said Nicolai. "He used to work in the criminal investigation department, mainly catching murderers. Once at Helen Wilkes's—Max knew this thirty-year-old lawyer, and I was having lunch with him when Max came and we Eat together. We were just talking about drive-thru shootings, drug cartels, gangsters, stuff like that. I remember Max saying, 'You gotta get to know the victim's friends, talk to them. Maybe one of them Killed the guy, just looked like he was driving to kill.' And I asked him some questions...”

Taylor stopped talking.A car glinting brightly in the sun was coming toward them on Greenwood Avenue and turning onto Thirty-first Street: a bright red Firebird with dark tinted windows and a Vice chromed wheels.The car slowed down in the parking lot in front of the Ordell house, the engine idling with a rumble.Tyler took down the license plate number and handed over the binoculars. "Am GTA cars, luxury ones," Nicolai said.Taylor is on the phone.Through the binoculars, Nicolai observed a young Negro, about eighteen or twenty years of age, five feet ten inches tall, slender, not weighing more than a hundred and forty pounds, wearing an Atlanta Braves thermal jacket and clean white pumps—a little too big for him—he walked down the driveway to Ordell's garage, looking out the window.Nicolai said, "Tell me, where did this young man get twenty-five thousand dollars for a car like this?" But he thought in his heart that he knew the answer—drug dealing.He was waiting to see the young man walking towards Ordell's house.No, he was walking back down the driveway. ...

Tyler put the phone back and said, "It's not his, it's a stolen car. That plate was taken off a Dodge last night in Boca." He took the binoculars to take a look at the guy . "Steal a car like that and park it somewhere near the fucking place and no one will notice," Nicolai said. "He doesn't care if anyone sees him," Tyler said, putting down the binoculars before turning the key to start the Chevrolet. "He's actually been living a dangerous life." Nicolai held up a hand. "Wait a minute! What is he doing?" "Nothing. He's just standing there."

He stood on the sidewalk in front of the house, but stared intently at the other road.Tyler raised his binoculars and saw a car driving down Thirty-first Street toward the house. "I said, it's a black Mercedes," Nicolai said. "Must be," Tyler said. "I'm sure he's the guy we're looking for. Mercedes wagon . . . " The raised roof was slowly lowering, and the passing Firebird turned into the driveway.The young man in the Atlanta Brave jacket was approaching the Mercedes without haste, and when Odell Robbie stepped out of the car, Tyler and Nicolai saw the gentleman for the first time: Black male, about forty-seven or eight years old, about six feet tall, one hundred and seventy pounds, wearing sunglasses, a brown patterned silk shirt, and brown slacks.The two law enforcement officers were wearing Sears sweatshirts and jeans this morning, with Nicolai in his cowboy boots and Taylor in a pair of gray and blue loafers that matched Ordell's sleek ensemble Can't compare.They watched in silence as Ordell talked to the guy standing by the trunk of the Mercedes, a calm couple, except that Ordell stared back and forth down the road from time to time.Tyler glanced through the binoculars and saw four or five other young men, all black, at the end of the block, as if they were waiting for a school bus. "He was going to show him something," said Nicolai. "Did you see it? Inside his jacket." "I didn't see it," Taylor said. "Just lift up the jacket for him to take a look." "You think it's a gun?" "I think so," Nicolai said. "This guy has a gun, and that's my business." Ordell spoke now.The young man laughed and shuffled around, and Nikolai said, "Talking. They like to talk nonsense. They're clapping each other. It's their ritual." They saw Ordell walking toward the house, and he said something to the young man, who nodded several times and waved his hand lazily.The front door opened, and they caught a glimpse of the woman's figure for a moment.Ordell went in and the door closed again, at which point the young man walked up to the Firebird and got in. "Let's go get him," said Nicolai, turning around and reaching for his small briefcase from the black seat. "But I'd like to see where he's going first." Tyler started the Chevrolet. "The reason? To catch him driving that car on the spot?" "He did more than just steal a car. He came here to sell a gun." "You don't know what he's showing him." "It's a gun," said Nicolai. As they followed the Firebird west on Thirty-first Street toward Windsor Avenue, Nicolai put his little briefcase on his lap, snapped it open, and pulled out a Sig Sol. Pai Gow automatic pistol, and put the briefcase back on the back seat."I'd bet your gun was in the luggage compartment with all the mess you brought around," he said. "There," Tyler said, glancing at the glove box. Nikolai opened the glove box, pulled a Baretta nine from a black holster, and handed it to Tyler. "I didn't see your bulletproof vest there." "Fuck you," Taylor said, shoving the pistol between his thighs. They headed north on Windsor Avenue, turned west on Thirty-sixth Street, turned onto Australia Avenue, and headed north again, still winding through a low-cost housing estate that was lightly trafficked in that direction.On such a beautiful morning in spring, they followed a red Firebird sedan.no problem. "You mentioned gangs," Nicolai said, then paused, as if to start over. "Where was Beaumont Livingston found? In a stolen car, a new Oldsmobile. The gun was with him in the trunk, a wipe A clean, five-shooter . Fingerprints. They checked the registration number, and the gun belonged to a guy who owned a boutique, and now facing federal prosecution, no doubt having a hard time. This guy will tell you all you want to know, so you have to The question is selective. He said that the gun was stolen last month, along with all the cash, drugs, and several other guns.  … He said that the boys shot as soon as they came in, and put He got kicked out. One of them, he recognized as a kid named Bulky Eye, whom he had known in Delray before. They found that the fingerprints on the gun that shot Beaumont belonged to a man named Rilius Miller's convict. So, what about Aurelius' street name? Looks like he should have one, and that's 'bulky eye.'" "The guy who owns the boutique," Taylor said, "I don't see him telling you that much. I mean he's not like someone who sticks his neck out and informs." "My feeling at the time was that he was trying to please people," Nicolai said. "And it's not over yet, is it? Yeah, Popeye was shot and killed by a West Palm police officer 10 days ago." Yes. It was published in the newspaper..." "I saw it," Taylor said. "That guy's got bullets in his chest and back, so there's something wrong with him?" Nicolai stared at the red car half a block ahead of them and said, "It's a bullet. It went right through." "He was shot in the chest and rolled over," Taylor said. "But the officer was still shooting." "We knew that was possible," said Nicolai, as the red sedan grew larger. "He's slowing down." They had entered an industrial area, with warehouses, shipping docks, and a few small shops, and by this time they were on the Riviera. "He's playing tricks," Taylor said. Nicolai looked around and saw that there were no cars behind them. "Drive over." The kid was staring straight ahead as they passed the Firebird parked on the side of the trucking company's open road. "What's around here?" "Nothing," Taylor said, "I think he found us." Nicolai was looking back. "It's a place that makes patio furniture, a paint and refinish shop . . . something like that." "A place to rent warehouses," Tyler said. "In that alley." "Where are we now?" "Blue Heron Avenue." "Turn around, drive back. Did you see him?" Tyler looked in the rearview mirror. "He's still there." "He's probably going to sell that Firebird for parts," Nicolai said. "You'll never see it when it goes into the auto parts shop. You see why I thought 'Bulky eye'?" Taylor nodded. "I'm going to go through that traffic light and come back." Nikolai turned his head to look at the Firebird, which was still parked there, some distance away. "In a stolen car there was a young man who looked like he might be part of a gang, right? He went to a gun dealer named Odell Robbie and sold him a gun. It's the same Ordell Robbie who shot a guy after he bailed him out with a gun he stole from a boutique. Bugeye, Known gang member, now dead." "So you're going to talk to this guy," Taylor said, a little anxious now, and he swerved the car abruptly and drove back. "See what he has to say," said Nicolai, holding the stubby Sig Saul automatic in his lap. "Police-civilian cooperation must make our case a lot easier, right?" "I'm going to go around behind him," Taylor said. "You see he has a gun? Huh?" Nikolai raised the pistol so that it could be pulled. "Bet your life." The thing Kuch showed him in Bread's driveway was a large gleaming .44 mag that Bread had asked him to get for a client.Here's how it goes: Bread finds out who has such a gun, where that person lives, and Kuch or someone else breaks into his house and takes the gun, steals the weapon, or he sees anything he likes or can sell.While in the driveway, Bread wondered if it was the gun he wanted, and asked him how long the barrel was.Kooch told him: Great long man, they can go into that house and show him that gun.Um-uh, "Bread" never let anyone into that house, and Kuch believed that there was a woman inside that he didn't want others to see.Or it was a place where he kept tens of thousands of dollars, and by now he must have made money on guns. "Bread" said his customer's mague had a seven-and-a-half-inch barrel protruding from the top, whatever the hell that was.Is this the one he wants?Kuch asked if he thought he should carry a ruler with him when he broke into the house to measure the gun? "Bread" said, "No, buddy, you don't need a ruler." He said, "You know how long your body is, don't you? When you get the gun, compare it to your body, and you can't estimate it." How much business trip." He brags to you, tells you how things are going, and puts on a serious face.This guy is interesting and can be on TV, but he has his own way.He wouldn't put the gun in the trunk, just leave it there, and he wouldn't take it home.He said he had to get out, to where the gun was hidden.This is no nonsense.Then, blissfully, get ready to go "turkey hunting" in a few days.Meaning, when they went to attack the Nazis, they had to take all the guns he had there.He gave names to everything they did. "Rum Punch" was a deal he was working on at Bahamas, and "Open Doors" was the name he gave to the places he had lined up for them to break into.When they attacked the Nazis, it was like "opening the door" together, said Bread, and "triggering the turkey" again.Attack him early in the morning. ... When Kouch paused here to see that no one was following him, he took the big mug out of his trouser pocket and put it on the ground at his feet.He had just noticed a small car following him. There was no other car at the time, and the car followed cleverly.Then a white modified Chevrolet passed by.There are two white boys sitting in the white car.Kuch waited to see if there were any other cars, just to be sure, watching the cars come by in the rearview mirror, and then through the tinted windshield as they passed, heading toward Blue Heron Avenue.He saw the white Chevrolet come back from the front down the opposite lane, turn around and follow him, and it turned out to be an unmarked police car, not a group of people looking for a street they had missed.Lo and behold, now coming down the road again, skillfully following him.He saw in the mirror that the front doors on both sides of the white car were open and thought, I'll drive away as soon as they get out of the car. Unless high speed bullets can kill you.He tried it once and was pulled out of a wrecked car with a huge hole in his head. Better keep an eye on these two fucking guys.Let's play. "He's getting out of the car," Taylor said. Nicolai thought the kid would tell a story when they led him back to the car.The kid knows who they are.But he stood beside the firebird, showing them how composed he was, with his right arm resting on the open door and his left on the roof.is waiting for them.About thirty paces away. "Keep the car door in front of you," Nicolai said, "until I catch him." "Are you sure he has a gun?" "I am sure." "What if he doesn't?" "Then there's no fucking need to shoot him." He watched as Tyler got out of the car and stood behind the door, resting his Baletta on the open window frame.Nikolai got out of the car and began to move towards the right side of the Firebird, choosing a cross-firing angle a few steps away from the two cars, holding the pistol against his thigh. The kid watched them over the low roof of the car. Taylor said, "Put your hand up where I can see it." The kid posed against the car door, turning his palms up.Calm enough, maybe a little dismissive. "Get out of your car," Taylor said. The kid said, "Are you a policeman? What am I going to do?" "I said get out of that car." Nicolai saw the kid glance in his direction, then turn back to look at Tyler and say, "Do you want to see my driver's license? Let me pass it to you," sticking his head into the Firebird. Nicolai was moving.He heard Tyler yelling to get out of the car again.Saw the kid's head and shoulders come out of the car and saw a flash of bright metal in the sun and the kid fired what looked like a Magnum at Tyler and fired another shot, Turning now to put the gun on the roof of the car, Nikolai raised the Sig and fired three quick shots at the kid.I saw the kid leaning over, maybe he hit it, or maybe he didn't.Nikolai moved to the Firebird's right side and crouched down, staring immediately at the fucking tinted glass that was blocking you from seeing, then fired three quick shots, shattering the glass, firing three more, through the shattered Glass caught a glimpse of the kid and heard his scream.Nicolai got on the hood of the car and flipped over.Just as the kid was about to kneel, Nikolai slammed the door on him, and he screamed again and fell onto the front seat, dropping his bright mug to the floor.Nikolai kicked it under the car and put the body of the Sig Saul on the kid's head, and the kid looked up at him with staring eyes and said, "Oh, I got shot gone." Nicolai turned his head and looked at Chevrolet.He saw two bullet holes in the car door, and Taylor was lying on the ground next to him, propping himself up.